It Came to This?
by haggardjax
Summary: Years after 'that' battle, the one which split apart everything. He returns to the city where it all happened looking for answers, for the possibility to atone.  m/m Kazu/Agito/Akito  M mainly for language/violence
1. Chapter 1

It's been years since I've set foot in this city. Which is strange because at one point in my life I didn't think that I'd ever leave it. I had everything here; what was left of my family, close childhood friends, those who came later but grew to mean the world of me. Sixteen years of happy memories. But here was also where I ended up losing everything, where we all lost everything. When it ended there was nothing left but charred memories and deep wounds which still scar to this day. Throughout it all I never thought that he could be capable of some thing like that; my oldest friend. He became the symbol of hope for so many people, of escape; they would have willingly laid their lives down for him. And so many did.

It's a cool evening and I pull the collar of my coat closer to my neck. I'm not worried about being recognised, too many year have passed and we were nothing but kids then. I was coming up to my seventeenth birthday when I left this place, and so much has changed, in the city as well as my looks. I'm a little taller, my dark blonde hair is shorter and I have dirty blonde stubble on my cheeks. I used to have a sweet face, but there is barely any of that left, not with the ageing of the horrors I faced. Many have told me that I'm handsome, but I don't see that. All I see when I look in the mirror is a man I barely recognise, so much pain in his blue eyes, age on my face which makes me look older than the twenty two years I am. Other than that, I have another reason to not fear detection. I was always the one that went unnoticed, who ended up stood in the back, a mere shadow of a man, always in _his_ shadow. But he knew I was there, and when my true skill, my true road started to show he was the first to encourage me to fulfil it all. I know the saying, keep your friends close and your enemies closer, but I never doubted that he pushed me as anything other than a friend. I wasn't, I was a threat, a powerful threat. I should have seen it sooner, it happened before with those we defeated, Sora and Nike and all the corruption of power. How naïve we were to think it wouldn't happen again, that we could rewrite history.

A couple of laughing kids rush past me on AT's, swirling up leaves of discarded newspaper and litter as they pass. I remember that thrill, that freedom, that laughter and friendship, it was there when I put on my first set of AT's, when we fought side by side and drew more people to us, created friendships I thought nothing could ever break. But we were all under his wing, supporting him to become the one person we needed him to be, the one person in the end he just couldn't become. Who could have known that the path we would have ridden when we decided to innocently slip on that first pair was one straight to hell? I shake my head, it does me no good to think of that now. I'm here for a reason, and that reason it to observe, to see how I can atone. I was too weak when I was needed to be strong. The story of my life. I denied it all to the last, stood defiant at his side until everything lay in tatters around me. And then battered and bruised I ran.

There is a commotion down the street, and looking behind me I see what it is that has people running for their homes, for the nearest shop to claim safety. It's a gang of storm riders, and by the uniform I know that they are minions of the storm king, barbaric and lawless. This is why I am here, this kind of thing can't go on, these people shouldn't have to live in fear. Pulling into the shadow of an alleyway I watch them pass me, progress down the streets, attacking anyone who didn't manage to scrabble to safety. How is this the action of a king? These people are innocent. Yet I know why, this a reminder of his dominance, almost threatening anyone to challenge him on his throne of corpses, the bodies and souls of all those who have tried to take him down. The new teams are weak, and after that terrible battle the current Kings are all scattered to the winds, just ashes and whispers.

Following their progress I see them approach a kid on the opposite side of the road to me. He isn't wearing AT's, just a pair of beat up sneakers. His back to me he looks to be a teenager, of average height and slender build, lank raven blue hair shaggily cut, obscuring his face. Each thin arm holds a full sleeve of ink and he looks so vulnerable in simple white t-shirt and skinny jeans. Headphones are clamped over his ears, probably blocking out all the sounds of the street. He has no idea what's going to happen, what threat is behind him. Everything cries out for me to help this kid, warn him, save him. But I'm not that person anymore. It's not time for me to get involved. I can only stand and watch in sadness as they get close, the first rider raising a baseball bat ready to hit. It doesn't connect, the kid kicking backwards surely as though he sensed them coming. It's a vicious blow right to the chest and with the riders momentum and the force of the kick I hear his ribs smash.

'What the fuck? That's it you little brat!' Another yells, only for the kid to jump up, using the wall as leverage to get both height and speed into his next kick, right into the face of this second rider, a perfect placement which smashes his nose into his skull. As the kid continues to fight I feel my heart stop, senses so alive as I watch him with an almost analytical intensity. I've seen such a brutality before, only that was encased in a weaker body, that of a small, fragile boy with all the will and motivation in the world. I want to see his face, assure myself that I'm once again mistaken. I've seen his face in so many others since I left. It can't be him this time... The riders are all down on the ground, dead or severely wounded in a matter of seconds. The youth stuffs his hands into his jeans pockets, leaning back on his heels nonchalantly before turning to look straight at me.

'You coming wuss, or do you want to fight their reinforcements?'

Beneath the hair is the same face, slightly thinner but with the same feminine cheekbones, it's the same shark's eye resting on me, cool and calculating, the other still covered with a patch, although this is black one, not the white one he used to wear. I don't hesitate, stepping out of the shadows and walking across the street to him.

'How did you know?' I ask, had thought that I had done a good job of covering my tracks, of fading into the background.

'I heard you coming a mile away, you think these senses would dull?'

'I should have figured, how long have you been back for?' I ask, knowing that he left for a while too.

He looks behind me, to the people starting to venture back out onto the streets, casting interested glances over to us. His hand is around my wrist in an instant, pulling me into the closest alleyway, navigating these backstreets with surety. Just stepping foot back onto them and I feel at home, although know them more from the rooftop. I let him lead me into an apartment block, and I know that some would say that I am too trusting after everything that has already happened in my life. But this is _him_, and even to this day I would trust him with my life, with anything that was dear to me.

Into the apartment he locks and double bolts the door before dropping the keys onto the table next to it. It's a small apartment I see, one room which has bed, dining table and kitchen, although a separate bathroom. It's all but bare, the only sign that someone lives here the rumpled bedsheets and the AT part 'windchime' hanging next to the window, something he's had since I've known him. He turns to me and I can't contain myself any longer, fingers itching to touch him, to convince myself that this is real. Pulling him into a hug I feel him tense, stiff in my arms like he doesn't know what to do. It lasts only a moment before he lets his arm slip around me, resting in the small of my back. He feels so different. Before we parted we were teenagers, and the boy I held in my arms was unusually small, delicate in ways he wouldn't want anyone to know. Yes he's still smaller than me, and still impossibly slender, but I feel so much strength in him, a lean, muscular build, broader in the shoulders. I don't know what to say to him, the hug alone showing me how much time has passed, how different things are now. What _can_ I say to him after all that has happened? I sigh, let my chin rest on his shoulder. I came here to stop running away, to make up for everything that I did wrong, everyone I wronged. I have to start somewhere, and if he hadn't wanted to talk to me he could have followed me for miles and I'd have never known he was there.

'I missed you Agito.'

His hand tightens on my side, an almost clinging hold which last a few seconds before going back to simply resting there. Does he even notice?

'It has been too long Kazu.'

Pulling apart we stand there awkwardly, eyeing the other, taking in every little difference from teenager to adult.

'You look so different I barely recognised you,' I admit, letting my eyes run over his face again, the face that still holds so much youth. Then again, he has always held his age in his eyes, having gone through so much before I even met him.

'Yeah, looks like I finally got that growth spurt you all used to joke about behind my back.' He utters, only a slight tilt to one side of his mouth. Before all of this he used to smile. We taught him to smile, in something other than blood-lust. Did we take it away from him as well? 'If it weren't for the way you walk I probably wouldn't have recognised you either without that beanie you insisted on practically living in.'

'Well, I thought that might give the game away if I came home wearing it,' I smirk, trying my hardest to act normal but still feeling awkward. How can he just stand here and talk to me? I thought if I ever saw him again he'd send me to hell. I ran away, walked out and left him to fight alone... I was such a coward, so pathetic and weak. I left so much up to others, always, but it was different between us. I loved him, both of them. He gave me so much of himself and I just left, without so much as a goodbye kiss.

'Agito I'm..'

'Sorry?' He interrupts, moving back and leaning against a table, hands and ass resting on it. He doesn't break eye contact with me, and there is no malice in it, none of the anger I was so used to. 'I know, and sure it hurt. But we were all to blame for it all and I understand why you left, why you couldn't face it, him. What's the point of being angry at other people when _he's_ the one to blame, who engineered it all. The Storm King stands to answer for it all.'

He can't say his name and I don't blame him. If anything he had more faith in him than the rest of us, risked so much to go with him in the first place. He gave so much of himself to help him to those heights and he was betrayed. I can't say it either, his name not having passed my lips for years. That man, he's the Storm King, not my friend, not the boy I grew up with. He doesn't deserve his name.

'Where did you go?' He asks, turning the conversation, 'I looked for you after you ran, although obviously I couldn't find you.'

He looked for me! Guilt floods me again. I was such a fool. I thought he'd never want to see me again for being such a coward.

'To Russia, then through Europe. I was living in England when I saw what was happening in the news. I couldn't hide any longer.'

'And what do you plan to do?'

'See with my own eyes, figure out what needs to be done to stop him. If it comes to fighting then so be it. I ran from battle before, I won't do it again.'

This answer seems to satisfy him and he pushes off the table, moving to the fridge.

'Do you want a drink or something?' he asks as he pulls it open, surveying the contents, 'I got soda or beer.'

'I think a beer,' I reply, wishing that he had something stronger to help get me through this.

He takes two out and hits the caps off with his palm against the counter top before moving to sit on his bed, back against the wall. Offering the other out to me I get that he wants me to sit next to him, and I guess this is his sofa as well as bed with so little space for furniture. He takes a sip before staring at the wall, ceasing all movement, and I recognise this as him having a conversation with himself. My heart flutters. Akito? I bite my lip, wonder if this isn't a conversation but more of an internal battle. I heard that the Storm King took off from Sora, desperate for the power of the first brain child. Did Lind win out? Was that promise broken, the one where Agito made _him_ swear to end him if Lind took their body. My fingers tingle as his hand reaches up to the patch.

The eye that greets me is the same soft, beautiful golden brown of Akito, although I feel harrowed with the amount of age in them, a pained wisdom.

'Akito, I... I missed you too.' I offer, nearly choking on emotion.

He doesn't hesitate, such softness as he pushes himself close to me, holding me tight, his head in the curve of my neck. It's strange how different this body can feel depending on who is controlling it.

'Kazu, how have you been? How did you manage on your own? What have you seen all these years?' He pauses a moment and he tuts. 'I'm not overwhelming him, I'm just... it's been so long.' Those last words aren't directed at me, and I smile despite myself, feeling so much like old times I could close my eyes and happily get lost in the sensation of holding him close. This is my bed back at my sisters, and this is just another night of lying in bed with him. He was my first, well, they were my first, and the only people I have ever loved in my life. There have been affairs since, the odd sexual encounter, but there has never been any deep feeling of anything other than self loathing. Every day I thought about him, wondered if he was still alive, if he was still himselves, or if Lind had taken all the beauty and strength out of him.

'I've done okay, at first it was hard to make a living, but having worked in construction in highscool I had some skills they wanted. The language barriers were worst, you know how bad my English was.' I swallow my beer, it tastes bitter in my mouth. 'How about you?'

He gets up, like he's ignored the question, going to the fridge and taking out a soda, moving back to the bed and drawing his knees up to his chest, opening the can. Akito never did like bitter things.

'How much do you know of what happened after you left?' he asks, looking to his feet.

'Not much, Bucca was dead before I left and I heard that Onigiri died in the hospital after. Other than that only gossip and the Sky King's tales he spread himself.'

'I fought, _we_ fought, there was no-one else left. Sleeping forest were already hospitalized and he'd made sure we'd incapacitated any remainders of genesis before he ascended. We fought with everything we had, he targeted Yayoi when we were already on the ground and there was nothing... I thought I was going to die, and I would have done if Lind hadn't...' he bites his lip, and there are tears in his eye, so expressive, so different from Agito's poker face. 'But Lind didn't care about anyone else, there was nearly a victory, Lind came so close to breaking the Sky King, fangs and thorns... but we needed numbers. There were hundreds of his followers, those he had convinced to fight by his side with the lies we helped feed them. There were too many, always more no matter what Lind did. We only survived because of Akira, a last ditch attempt at a rescue which he pulled off killing too many G-men soldiers.' He takes a shuddery breath. 'We were in a coma for three years, fighting Lind, trapped inside in a battle for this body. I...'

His hand reaches up in reflex and I'm greeted with the return of the gruffer voice.

'It nearly killed us, I thought he was going to win or we'd break the body trying. It was a bloody battle we only just won. But we did, assimilated all of his power, his memories, his_ being_ into us. I don't think he understood just how powerful love could be. I wasn't going to let him take Akito and Akito wasn't going to let him take me. Two fang kings against the first of the torn, it was too much even for him when we were no longer constrained by physical weakness.' His jaw tenses, and he stares out, hard as they relive the horror and the victory. 'When we came to Kaito was dead and Akira was a shell of the man he used to be. Like the rest of us he'd been given wings and had them ripped away. He'd spent the whole time locked away in that medical bay with me and if it weren't for him I wouldn't be as strong as I am now, taking the time to exercise my limbs so they didn't atrophy. He said it was because he knew he didn't have the ability to take the Sky King on, his nerve broken, but that he had faith that we could... that we could...' He takes a sip of the beer. 'I left as soon as I was strong enough to walk. I couldn't let myself fall into that cage again, that familiar safety. I'd never be able to do anything like that, no matter of who taught me the importance of it in the first place.'

'I... I had no idea. I'm sorry.' I say, completely shocked at the story. Filled with even more guilt at having left him behind.

'There's no need to be sorry, there was nothing you could have done, not against Lind. He would have killed you too in that battle against the Sky King, friendship, love and loyalty meant nothing to him.' He sighs, taking another drink of the beer. 'But he's gone now, thank fuck. It's one less thing to worry about.'

'You've been here all this time?' I ask, tentatively.

'No, I too went as far away as I could. I went to India, sent for Akira and left him there in a buddhist temple. They have no need for fighting, and he had done as much of it as he could in his lifetime.' I hear it in his voice, the regret. We've hurt so many people, although rarely by choice, more in circumstance. 'I came back a year ago, travelled through Japan to see the extent of _his_ reach. Too many believed him at first, and those that now fight had been denied the aspirations of the kings' roads. He sees power in anyone and has them crushed before they have a chance to become a king.' He shakes his head, nearly baring his teeth in disgust. 'It makes me fucking sick, to think that we fought by his side... that we were so fucking stupid.'

I put my hand on his shoulder, trying to calm him, but glad to see some of the same anger, the same language. It makes me think that there is some left of the Agito I knew all those years ago. Although it's not much.

'We were stupid, but we have a chance to fix it. What happened to sleeping forest?'

'The butch one can't ride, broke her spine and is paralyzed from the waist down. The little one didn't survive, her body too small to take any of the punishment, and her will weaker than mine was. Ringo... when she regained consciousness and saw what happened to her sisters she blamed herself. She lives in a small monastery in the mountains the last I heard.'

'Others?' I ask, know that it's probably a useless question. So many of our friends are dead.

'None worth mentioning, none who would be able to help us against him. Most hung up their AT's, especially the less powerful.' He looks to me now, fixing me with that penetrating gaze. 'Did you.. I mean, have you stopped riding?'

'I did at first, after I ran the first time. But... I knew this day would come.' I put my bag down, take out the bundle wrapped in a tattered blanket, the one I took from Agito's bed all those years ago. Unknotting it I pull the material away, show the contents, new AT's to keep up with technology but the same regalia. Agito reaches forward, running his hand over them, they seem to glimmer, as though they sense the power of another king. 'The flame regalia, you kept them.'

I nod.

'There was too much sacrificed in giving them to me in the first place, how could I ever give them up?' I think of Spitfire and Aeon, and all they did to help me on my road, their lives the ultimate price. He moves back, standing and walking to the wall, where be pulls out a couple of bricks and reaches back for a box there. He comes back to sit on the bed, and as he opens the box on his lap I see the same old AT's, the ones which had caused me to shudder when I'd first looked on them; the fanged wheels and the fang regalia.

'I never stopped, how could I when it was all I ever knew how to do, all I was created to do?' He picks one up, holding it up the the light and I am struck by the sharpness. The fang regalia looks it's name sake. 'This was once all I sought, all I thought I needed. So much has changed since those times and now I know they will be nothing but the weapon they were designed to be.'

'It's changed for all of us.'

'I know,' he sighs, putting them back into the box and closing the lid, placing them to one side. 'With you too it seems. It feels like a lifetime since...'

'Since what?' I ask as he stands, taking both my AT's and his, putting them into the wall, his back to me.

'Since anyone other than Akito loved me.'

'Agito I...'

'I know,' he says, still facing the wall, 'this isn't the time or the place, you've probably got someone else by now, moved on. It makes sense that you have with all this time between us. I told Akito we couldn't hope for more.'

I don't like this, this almost jaded, defeated attitude. This isn't the man I knew, the one who would fight until he couldn't stand a moment longer, who had so much spirit and determination. He has been crushed, all his hopes pissed on. Years ago he wouldn't have shown any weakness to me, wouldn't have put his emotions out there on the table. Does he feel like there's nothing left to lose? Is there any of that stubborn pride left? He's so broken. And I did nothing to stop it, nothing to help. Not this time, this time _everything_ will be different. Striding over I turn him to me, see confusion in his eyes at the almost violent insistence of my actions. I was never the forward one. I don't hesitate, done with hiding, done with being the one to wait for others. I join my lips to his.

He breathes in, but doesn't push me away. Instead he leans into me, arms sliding up around my neck, pulling me down to him. The desire almost overwhelms me and I push him back into the wall, our bodies flush. I want him, and this time apart has only reinforced this need.

'I thought of you every single day, thought it was all too late, that you would turn away from me if I were to ever find you again.' I mutter, moving my lips from his to his neck, tasting the skin, feeling him squirm.

'Never,' he gasps, letting my mouth work, head falling back. 'You were all outside of this body I had left to love.'

'May I?' I ask, lifting my hand.

He nods and I let my hand rest over the eyepatch, slipping it up, over his head and away. The other eye focuses and a smile forms on his lips. I kiss them, those delicious lips, both of them. It's been too long... I should never have run from this.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Air Gear nor any of the characters. This is a work of not for profit fanfiction.

Chapter 2

When did all the years melt away?

I remember this emotion as though I never lost it. A swelling of lust and love in my chest so powerful I feel like it will choke me, burst out of my body and consume the entire world. I push him harder into the wall, knee between his slender thighs out of instinct. His hands grip my lower back, pulling me closer to him as our lips lock, his hot mouth open to my breath and tongue. Just to hold him again, to let my hands push up the back of his shirt, run up the soft, heated skin of his back... it pulls my whole torn world back together.

This was always how it was between us, this passion, this heat. Not even the years and all this torment has sullied it. It's so much stronger, both Agito and Akito here with me, the patch hanging limply in my hand from where I had slipped it off. I feel it in the kiss, the tenderness of Akito, the violent passion of Agito. It's a heady mix and it intoxicates me, makes my head spin and my body light. I broke my own heart walking away from them, but I was too pathetic to stay and fight by their side. And now so much time has passed, the years lost and irretrievable, all because I was too much of a fucking coward to look for him. I feared rejection, hatred; the unbridled anger of the Fang King tearing me apart.

I was a fool. I needed him, and was too stubborn and shamed to admit it. I struggled by for years, blocking out both the nightmarish memories of that day and the happiness of what came before it. All this time, in all those countries... I was never really living. I realise that now I remember what it feels like to be alive. I remember this energy in my veins, so aware of the beating of my heart. All it took was to have him in my arms the way I do now, pressing him back to the wall, feeling him gasp in desire at my bodily strength. I can't stop kissing him, don't want to. Don't want to forget, once again, what it feels like to live. I listen to him; every noise, delight in every touch. A hand to his cheek it's all I can do to hold myself back from taking him right here, from bursting into tears, from holding him so hard I'd be scared of crushing him...

My hand is quick over his mouth as there is a heavy banging on the door, fading lust pounding in my ears as I reach back for the flick knife in my back pocket. I feel his breath on my fingers as he exhales through his nose, and I realise as I bring the blade free that I'm pressing too hard in my worry, his head into the wall. My lips tingle from the lust-rough contact and brings me back to the reality of who's here with me. This is no defenceless pawn. I pull my hand back from his mouth regretfully, having acted on survival instinct alone. As a kid alone in a foreign country I had quickly learned the importance of a well handled blade, for intimidation if nothing else. People have sought me out; asked too many questions, threatened my anonymity. It'd be a lie to say I haven't had blood on my hands since I left this place. I've grown up... too much. I've changed more than I ever thought I could, seen so many things, terrible things, that I wonder if I can ever be the carefree boy with the big heart I once was.

'Akito, are you in there? Are you okay? I heard something.'

He stands there still frozen against the wall even though my hand now rests softly on his chest, mouth free. Looking to him I see both his eyes staring out into the room, dazed. He hadn't expected it to end so quickly, and with the moment lost his body is stuck waiting for someone to take control.

I make the move for him, covering his right eye, the sharks eye, with the tips of my fingers, pressing the delicate lid closed. A moment later and Akito looks at me with a soft smile, reaching down with both hands, one over the knife as he pushes it down with the shake of his head, the other taking the eyepatch from my hand, shoving it haphazardly onto his head, over his hair, making it stick up awkwardly.

'Akito? I saw you come in with someone, I'm going to call the police...' The male voice continues, strong and definite.

Akito quickens his pace to the front door, unlocking it and pulling it open. The last thing we need here is the police. I don't doubt that Agito has kept them both off the radar; Kaito is dead, Akira gone, and who knows how far the Storm King's reach now extends.

'Mr Takihara, there's really no need for that. I'm only here with a friend.' Akito says brightly, slightly breathless as he leans on the open door, blocking most of the room from view.

I lean back against the wall, knife still in my hands but behind me back, legs shaky as the buzz of desire continues to tremble and die within my blood. Reality is cruel and I was brought back to it too sharply. My reactions had been enough to confirm it, the blade so quick into my hand. It never used to be like this. But this is what it is, I am here, in this tiny apartment which looks nothing like my old teenage bedroom. The back I'm looking back is one of a young man, not the tiny teenager I remember.

This can't happen like this. I left him. I walked out and this is not he way to make it up to him, by taking advantage of his feelings at the first opportunity. He, they, would give me anything I wanted. I know what it's like to feel lonely, probably more than they as they've always got each other, and I know how easy it would be to cling to what we had, pretend like what happened doesn't matter. But it does. Mistakes can't be willed away. I click the knife shut one handed, pushing it back into my jeans pocket. When I look up I find a grey haired man sneaking a look around the open door, sceptical eyes fixing on me. He probably thinks I look older than I am, and Akito younger than he is.

'Are you sure everything's okay?' He asks, looking back down to Akito, who I know my the plumpness of his cheek is smiling wide. That'll be enough to disarm the old man. I don't know a person alive who couldn't be bought by that sweet smile. 'You're a good boy and there's so much trouble around...'

'I'm fine,' he says, reaching out, touching the man's arm, keeping his attention on him and not me, 'really, my... friend... and I haven't seen each other for a while.'

'Oh... oh...' the old man says, looking at me in a new light, no less distrustful, but with a more humorous glint in knowing what he's walked into. 'Well, I'm interrupting then. I do apologise.'

'There's no need,' Akito replies, slowly closing the door on the man, the smile having worked it's usual charm, 'thank you for your concern.'

He shuts the door, leaning both his hands flat on it, head bowing. I see his shoulders sag. I can only watch, still leaning up against the wall, too scared to breathe let alone move. Yes I was kissing him less then five minutes ago, but I can feel it in the air that everything has changed now the passion has faded. I look at him, at how small and fragile he looks leaning up against the door this way, inked arms slender, whole body almost painfully slight. Dark hair falls over his face until I can see only the pink plumpness of his bottom lip. I want to gather him up in my arms, hold him close, safe, and promise him that I wont ever leave again. How can I leave him so alone in this cold, unforgiving city? He sighs, and I watch his mouth move as whispered words slip past them.

'I don't have the strength for this Kazu, I'm sorry,' he says to the ground, a hand seeming too heavy as it reaches up slowly to twist the patch.

Agito rests still a moment, in the same forlornly submissive stance before straightening up, ordering the hastily replaced eyepatch.

'So, it looks like we could pick things up where we left off.' He offers warily.

'It does,' I say, watching him move through the apartment, wanting to touch him but knowing that despite it all I don't have the right. If I pulled him to me and kissed him now, he would let me take whatever I wanted. But I don't want to take. What do I gain in the submission of this man so broken by the past? I want the hard earned love I had before, the temper tantrums, the anger, the passion... I want.. I want...

'But I think it's best that we leave things here for now. I... don't want Akito to be hurt again and I...' he looks down, so lost, 'I couldn't... couldn't... fuck. I've got to be strong... for the both of us.'

'If anyone can be strong then it's you,' I reply honestly, having always admired that about him.

'Fuck, I think the past is playing tricks on you. There's nothing strong about me now. I hide up here watching... only watching. What kind of King is that?' He asks quietly, walking to the window, looking out of it with his arms folded, back to me.

I move to stand behind him, both hands on his shoulders as I look out over his head. All I see is concrete, grey and dismal blocks of the stuff whose many windows reflect the dim light of a cloudy sky. It looks dead, lifeless... a storm lashed landscape with all the old vibrant colour sapped out of it. We used to play in the sky here, the tops of these buildings were our roads. We were untouchable, the wind pulling at our clothes as we skipped over the rooftops, so high above the people in the streets below. I remember how carefree I was, how happy to feel the breeze in my hair and the sun on my face. I was never alone here, always the people I loved at my side... and then... then...my jaw clenches in bitterness.

I rub a thumb over his sagging shoulders, sense the tiredness in him. Does he even have strength to fight this battle?

'If you can't see the plan clearly then you're a fool to rush in, I remember someone once telling me that,' I say, a glimmer of a smile tugging my lips as I remember him standing on the desk yelling it at us as we lay exhausted and sweaty on the floor from practice, when HE had asked why we didn't just head straight to battle.

'I don't think that person exists anymore, I used up too much strength then, since... it took everything I had, we had, to take control of this body.'

'You do... I know you do.'

'You always had too much faith in other people.' He says, and it hits hard, like a kick to the guts.

'I may have misplaced my faith in him, but I never once got you wrong.'

He snorts, shaking his had, but not pulling away from me. My hand tingles as his right hand raises up and presses over my left, crossing over his chest.

We stand in silence, both looking out of the window high above the street as the clouds gather angrily in the sky above. I don't know what he's thinking, and I don't think I want to. There's so much defeat there. How can the man I once saw stand so proud look so worn? I came here with ideas of fighting the Storm King, of righting all the wrongs I so stupidly and so cowardly committed. Just looking at him I know it's going to be a bigger task than I thought. I didn't plan on finding him here, but now I have I know I'm going to need him by my side, as well as anyone else we can prise out of the woodwork.

'Agito...' I breathe, raising my thumb up, stroking over the softness of his fingers.

'Huh?' He replies, barely even moving to breathe.

'Do you trust me?'

'Haven't I always?' He replies, although without conviction.

I unlatch the windows and push them open, bringing us both forward, bending his body over with mine until his thighs touch the sill, heads and upper bodies out free in the breeze. I look over his shoulder, down at the dirty concrete as the wind tears at our hair, nearly gusts through us in the gathering storm. I feel him take a deep breath of the fresh, invigorating air.

'Close your eyes,' I whisper, mouth close to his ear, brushing the shell. I close my eyes too, concentrate only on the sensations washing over me; the heat of his body, the cool, chapping of the wind as seemingly storms through my bones. 'Do you feel that?' I ask as the rain starts to fall, a deluge torrenting deafeningly into the streets, washing away the dirt, the grime, to leave it fresh and clean. The hair plasters to my face, shirt sticking to me with the warm pattering of heavy rain over my shoulders. He shivers, but I know it's not from cold. I feel it too. The wind raises high again, tearing at his damp, lank hair, pulling it back off his face into my neck. Slowly, so very slowly he raises his arms out, either side as the wind pulls at his shirt. This is what we are. This is what we know. We'll take back what we lost. The sky is calling us.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: This is a complete work of FANfiction.

**Chapter 3**

I wake with a crick in my neck, cramped up in a bed which isn't my own. It's the smell of the sheets which give it away, along with how uncomfortable it is. It's a smell which reminds me of home, one I thought I'd never savour again, watermelon and the scent of his skin. He always uses the same shampoo, the only one Agito and Akito have ever agreed on. I should have insisted that I took the floor last night, not only did I feel bad for imposing on him this way, but the memories of a different bed are enough to stifle me. Sitting up I rub the back of my neck, over the aching, sore muscles. How do I always manage to get myself so twisted up around him? It's been like it since we first met, I had been piss in my pants scared of him watching him mercilessly destroy the Kintetsu Bulls, and it had taken months, until the battle with Behemoth, for me to see that there was something to him other than perverse blood lust. Just seeing him so quiet and broken in that hospital bed, realising that he'd been willing to risk his existence for Aktio, knowing that he hadn't betrayed us how I'd thought... that was the moment I felt myself fall in love with him.

But it's too painful to think of that now. Pushing myself up to sitting I slip my legs over the edge of the bed so my bare feet touch the cold floor. Letting my eyes slide down to the spread out sleeping bag he'd used last night I find it rumpled, unzipped and empty, as though thrown off in a moment of haste. A sensation akin to drowning pulls my chest tight, as though the air I suck in is as heavy and suffocating as water. My jeans are on in an instant and I find my senses artificially sharp, snapped quickly out of the lethargy of sleep. I let my guard down because I was in his home. I've had to be wary these years alone, and coming through it all in one piece is proof that it worked. Why didn't I check the lock on the door or window last night? Did someone find us? It has to be because of what happened in the street yesterday, someone saw us and followed us. My hand swings back automatically, pulling out the knife which should have been under my pillow last night. It's weight in my hands is comforting as I pull it open, an ever present back up plan. I want to call his name, heart pounding at the thought of losing him again, but I don't, keep my cool and my wits about me. A quick tour of the apartment with softly placed feet and I find it empty. I don't like it. He wouldn't just leave me here... would he? It'd be what I deserved, a retaliation in kind. But... I notice a scrap of paper on the otherwise empty kitchen table, held in place by an old, scuffed AT wheel. I'm quick over, snatching it up. A ransom note? I exhale the painfully held breath when my eyes pick out Agito's handwriting scratched bold and clear across the surface.

_Room 123- you'd better remember our secret knock._

_-Agito_

Secret knock? I stand there with creased brows, thinking back to what he could mean. We didn't have anything for the Kogorasumaru base... oh... the memory hits me hard, a jolt of electricity which shocks my heart dead still. I can't believe that he still remembers that, it's only because of this note that it's all come flooding back... not that I'd forgotten, but passing time can fade a lot of things. I'd pretend not to hear the others if they came knocking on my window at night, but he'd made up a knock so I'd know it was him, a tap a pause then three taps in succession. I'd lain awake hours some nights waiting to hear it, lying there heart racing at the slightest noise outside wishing that he would come, that he'd manage to slip away from _his _house and into my bed. Those nights; the breathless kisses, the desperate hands on hot skin, the complete burning desire...

I can't let my mind be drawn into those memories now. If they do I'll go over there and kiss the life out of him. It had been torture enough sleeping in the same room as him knowing that I had to keep my distance, wanting to honour his words as much as he probably wanted to dishonour them. Before I managed to fall into fitful sleep he tossed and turned as restlessly as me. Taking a steadying breath I head back over to the bed, and a moment of searching shows me that the clothes I had worn yesterday have gone, replaced with a clean white, folded t-shirt and a khaki combat jacket placed on the chair. Again there is a note, but this is in the freer, more rounded lettering from Akito's left handed scrawl.

_Hope you don't mind but I put your clothes in the washer. There's some here for you, I hope they fit okay. I don't know if you have anything in your backpack, I didn't want to look. Hopefully you wont mind._

_-Akito_

A tender smile tugs my lips. Just these words, his... adorable fluster, it feels as though I've been hugged by the past, this a warm feeling not the painful jolt I usually feel. Akito was always so much more concerned about what his actions to other people would cause, the complete opposite to Agito who would just deal with the consequences afterwards, usually by swearing or scowling. Akito was the heart of the team, always quick with a smile or an offer of encouragement. He helped us all with his little parables, his sweet temper. I didn't think that that would ever change, that that smile would be dulled. My chest clenches. Still, it's harder to stomach the change in Agito. I knew, more than anyone else, that he was sensitive beneath all his attitude, was lucky enough to be shown how emotionally shy he was beneath the bravado and dismissal. But even then he'd always stood proud, laughing in the face of our enemies, believing he could shred everything in front of him to pieces no matter how dire it looked to the rest of us. He was a King when we met him, so far above the rest of us. He made us believe we could reach those heights with him, and we did, he pulled us up further than we could have ever imagined. But because of that he rode higher than me, had further to fall when his wings were ripped away, and he fell hard.

I sigh, pulling on the shirt, finding the soft cotton only a little too tight on my broad shoulders. I guess he must see a change in me too. Physical work has made me strong, some would say an athletic build, with defined muscles but no six pack. I run everyday, something I've never stopped. But in shoes alone I've never been able to go fast enough, no matter how hard I ran, how much effort or practice I put into it. Once I got used to the wings on my feet it was hard to find satisfaction in being grounded. The combat jacket fits well, but I can't help but note that it would be about three sizes too big on Agito, who I don't doubt owns this piece. I asked him about it once, about why he liked clothes which were less fitted or wore more layers than Akito. He'd told me that I thought too much into things and needed to stop being so fucking stupid. To this day I'm convinced it had to do with him wanting to disguise the true size of his body; although to me it had only ever succeeded in making him look younger, smaller, like a kid in their older brothers clothes.

Fuck I love him so much.

Hands in my pack I pull out my washbag before heading to the small bathroom off the kitchen. It's cleaner than I thought it would be, although I guess with the two of them working together it's a pretty good deal. Still, how bare it is strikes me. I travel light as I'm always on the move, between cities and countries, looking for work and a way to forget. But from what he's said he's been here for a year. It doesn't look like it. The apartment has minimal, cheap furniture, all necessity and function nothing decorative. One table, one chair, no allowance for company. There are two of everything else, but that has only to do with the differences of the personalities, not with entertaining. It's so depressingly desolate like the bleak concrete of outside has poured its way in, everything grey and dead. Have then truly been alone all this time? Just stood in the shadows watching, waiting? Even in here there's just the two toothbrushes, in different colours, toothpaste and a bottle of shampoo. It looks like a hotel, somewhere where you're just going to pack up your things and leave. Guilt stabs me low in the gut, a knife twisting in my bowels. It hurts that it's still like this; to know that I'm part of the reason why. When he first came to us he had nothing, asked only a space to sleep and his bankbook back. Akito was happy for the change of scene, the chance to be around people other than Kaito and Akira. Agito had distanced himself, kept out of the team, out of our friendship. I helped to draw him in, to break down the barriers he'd constructed so carefully. He feared friendship because of Akira, didn't want to suffer that painful loss and betrayal again. I gave him a reason to belong, to drop his guard. I think back to that time, how much trust he placed in me; how much of himself he gave to me. There was a growing amount of his clothes in my closet, cute stickers Akito plastered on my mirror, AT parts scattered on my desk by Agito's untidiness... then I went and deserted him too.

What did he do when he realised I'd run away? Where did he go? It's not like he could have stayed there, Agito and my sister had clashed on more than one occasion and she'd been waiting for an excuse to kick him out. He couldn't go back to that house, not that any of the sisters were left. I had family, have family, he had... absolutely nothing. As I start to clean my teeth I avoid eye contact with my reflection, the hard, harrowed blue eyes I know would be waiting to stare back at me. It's that sense of contempt again, the one which time had lessened to a shadow now back in full force, enveloping me in the desolate darkmess of nightmares. I'm too ashamed to even look at myself.

I'm washed, fresh and cleanshaven when I make my way out of the apartment, locking it behind me with the key he left taped to the handle. Closing the door it reads 120. There is a light flickering at the end of the hall, a door with no handle but a broken window and a bar with padlock crossed across it. It seems the old man had a right to be worried about Akito in this place. Walking down the dusty corridor I stand in front of the door labelled 123 and knock the way I had been instructed.

'It's open,' comes a call, and I turn the handle and let myself in. It smells fusty in here, and as I look around I realise it's because the windows have been covered, the only light that from the fixture above. 'Lock it behind you.' He says, not turning to me as he sits cross legged on a desk, looking at something on his lap, light from a laptop screen passing over his shoulders. How can he stand to be somewhere so airless?

My hands work without any help from my brain, eyes too eager to take everything in. This room is so different to the other, even more sparsely furnished with only a table, chair and single cabinet. A printer sits on the floor, flashing a 'no paper' glow as marked sheets pool around it's mouth, spat out onto the floor but not collected, over the cables which twist like snakes. Still, the walls are filled with pictures, printed scraps of paper and handwritten notes in Agito's script. I look to him now, sat in the middle of the chaos, so still in ripped jeans which bare his pale knees, a black t-shirt hanging from his angular shoulders to rest on the beltline, head bent forward to expose the bottom of his neck beneath his hair. It's the stillness which is most disturbing, as though he is perched like a bird of pray, watching, waiting for something to skitter out of the bushes. It feels so dark in here.

'What is this?' I ask, not taking another step inside. Yesterday he had seemed so forlorn... and this... this is more than I expected.

'I told you I was watching,' he replies, still without turning, gaze fixed on the screen.

'But still, this... it looks like years of work.'

'That's because it is,' he answers, stone still although his fingers still elicit clicking from the laptop keys.

'Is... is it all about him?' I ask as I catch his face in one of the photographs, smug and smirking as he stands over a fallen rider. All these years and he's done nothing else... not even attempted to live? How can he... how did he..? I feel the prickle of hot tears sting my eyes as my heart bleeds for him.

'Isn't everything?' He asks, voice monotone, lifeless.

'It doesn't have to be,' I whisper, know that I've shut _him_ out of my mind for months at a time; lived as though there wasn't this dark weight on my shoulders.

I let my words rest in the air, feel them hanging there in the staleness of the room, no breeze to sweep them away. I'm too aware of the thump of my heart in my chest, regular but heavy. It takes a moment but he sighs, shoulders sagging as he turns to look at me, lifting the laptop as he unfurls his legs, letting them drop over the desk edge.

'This... this is all I know to do, all I have ever known. I was born into this, you know that.' He looks down, at his still fingers. 'When I woke up from the coma all I wanted to do was forget, turn my back on all this shit. All those years in my head, defeating Lind, it made me realise that... that, ' he stops a moment,and I see his shoulders dip, hear the drawing of a shallow breath damp with unshed tears as he attempts to keep his emotions in check. 'Fighting so hard for this body made me see that I'd never really lived with it. That's why I went to India, to try and put this all behind me, to try and give Aktio something... something...' I see his eye close, dark lashes a curved sweep across his delicate cheekbone, clumping with the moisture of nearly shed tears. 'Something which wasn't pain or death or violence or.. or... _fucking _AT's... but... but I can't... don't...' be bites his lip and turns his head so I can no longer see his face, obscured completely by his lank hair, Agito, the Fang King looking so small and wounded in front of me. 'I don't know how to change.'

My heart breaks. I want to touch him, pull him to me and hold him tight. I want to tell him that we'll run, that I'll take him wherever he wants to go and I'll teach him what it's like to live. Maybe he wants me to, needs me to. Before, when he was the boy I remember, he hated anyone acknowledging his weakness. But now... this is... I take a step close, hand raising out to him. Agito...

'Fuck, so anyway,' he says, breaking the moment with a voice which is too loud, pulling his shoulders up, blinking away the swelling tears as though they were never there, making me drop my hand too quickly. 'If you're serious about what you said yesterday I've been digging and I've found where Ringo is... you... wont be able to do this on your own.'

'I'm not on my own,' I say softly, still overpowered by the fragility of the previous moment as I stare at him in wonder. I want to run my hands through the lengths of his hair, kiss his mouth softly and tell him how much I love him, will always love him. He can do all this and call it nothing. Does he honestly think that he's not strong?

He ignores my words and puts the laptop down, whole body seeming to unfurl as he fortifies his resolve, regains control of his mouth and emotions. I

'I've tracked her down to a monastery on Tiger mountain, it's not easy to get to, and from what I've been told... the inhabitants are not too friendly to questioning.'

'Let's go then,' I say, making the decision for him.

'And say what?' He asks, eye narrowing, 'fancy meeting you here, it's been a while. Oh, and by the way I'm planning to overthrowing the Storm King, you want in?' He shakes his head, sharks eye darkening in thought. I see it on his face, the same concentration as all those years ago when he was planning our strategies for us. 'No, you need to go to her with something, something she wont be able to say no to. And I think...' He turns his attention back to the laptop, scrolling through files before settling on one, clicking it open. 'This should do it.' He tells me, turning the laptop so I can see the screen. I look at it, at the information that's displayed for me. I feel sick, the house that they grew up in... used for... that.

'Whatever is he thinking?' I ask, although the depths he has fallen to no longer surprise me. It doesn't stop the kick of shame. We helped him get here.

'Just one look at those girls and she wont be able to say no to us. But that doesn't mean it's going to be a walk in the park.' He stand up, placing the laptop on the table, walking over to a cabinet, unlocking it with a swiftly produced key. Swinging the doors open wide I can't believe what I'm seeing, guns and weapons stored in there, boxes of ammo.

'Agito?' I question.

'You don't work for the police for so long and not know where to get hold of these things.' He takes out a gun, holding it easily in his hand, checking the magazine. He keeps them loaded? Sliding the magazine back in he runs his thumb over the back to check the safety is on before holding it out to me. I stand there stunned. Since when did the Fang King stoop to this?

'You... know how to use it?' I ask, not taking the offered gun, feeling as though my hand is welded to my side.

'Kaito didn't just teach me to ride AT's ruthlessly. But I don't care for guns much, I think they're for cowards, still... it's better to be prepared than be dead. The people who run for the Storm King have no idea of honour.'

'Agito...'

'Fine, if you don't want it don't have it,' he snaps, pulling his hand away, turning to pull out ammo boxes, 'you're obviously much more comfortable with a blade.'

He saw that? I bite my lip, push away the alien feeling of disappointment at watching him handle the gun. We've all had to change, I can't hold this against him.

'I'm sorry. It's just...'

'I know,' he sighs, instantly losing the momentary spark of anger, the attitude of his former self fading into nothingness. 'Do you want it or not?'

'Yeah, you're right. We don't know... he finds out about this he's going to want us dead.'

'He's always wanted us dead, all of us who got away.' He replies bitterly, moving away, pointing to a poster he has pinned pride of place on the wall. Getting closer I see our teenage faces on there, our names and a reward figure large and lewd beneath it. 'He gave these to all of his recruits after he moved them into Behemoths old base. He's got his own personal fucking army and they'd all love to bring him our heads.'

'I don't...'

'What, you don't believe it?' He scoffs, closing his eye as he shakes his head. 'Now there's proof, more than this idiotic plan, that you're insane.'

'No, I just don't know what he's thinking. Why... why does he need this?' I ask, completely stunned. I knew he hated us, but I thought us running away would be enough for someone I once called my best friend.

'Cos he's an arrogant bastard who always thought he was better than everyone else.' He spits, turning to slam the laptop closed, slinging the bag of guns and ammo over his shoulder, laptop under his arm. 'I'm going to pack some things. You need to think if this is really what you want to do because if it's not then it's better you decide that now, not when we're half way up a mountain.' He stalks over to the door, but stops as he pulls it open, standing still in the rectangle of light which penetrates the room. When he speaks his voice is barely a whisper, words passed back over his shoulder as he grips the handle, everything about his stance tired. 'Don't fuck me about Kazu... please.'

With that he is gone, leaving me overwhelmed. It sinks in completely and my limbs feel heavy, the darkness of the room closing in, pressing my bones. If we do this, if I do this... it's all going to be on my shoulders. Each decision, each mistake. It'll be me who has to close my eyes at night and answer for it, look Agito or Akito in the face and tell him that I'm the one responsible if it all goes wrong. I have his life in my hands as well as my own, and that's something so precious, so fucking valuable it's hard to comprehend. Am I really up to this? Can I step into his shoes and not become like _him_? Victory and failure went to his head, and he lost sight of everything he once held dear, was corrupted into this evil in his own weakness. Am I strong enough to have other peoples faith in me and not abuse it?

I stand there in the darkness of the room, door still open with Agito expecting me to follow him out. Something ruffles my hair, a weak breeze fluttering in stirring softly at the corners of the paper on the floor, the words and images stuck to the wall. I close my eyes, let the cold, fresh air prick the hairs on my arms to standing. I see _him _in my minds eye, the boy I once knew, the smile he used to hold. It was never as sincere as I thought. But Akito's happiness, Agito's hard won shy grin... those were real. With them I have something he never did, someone who wouldn't be, isn't, blind to my faults. They'd tell me if they thought I was on the wrong path, make me see sense the way they always have. No, they wouldn't let me fall. My fists ball at my sides and my head raises in determination, eyes snapping open as I take in the walls, _his _eyes staring back at me. They suffered so much with me as a coward, if they want me to lead then I will. I hold the gun straight out, testing the weight of it in my hands as I line up a space right between the pictures eyes.

I'll take him down, I'll set this all right. Can you hear me Storm King? I'm coming.

.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: This is a complete work of FANfiction in no way affiliated with Air Gear.

**Chapter 4**

This is harder than I thought it would be. It's not just the humidity and the terrain, but Agito's been pretty much silent the whole time. Two days and two awkward nights in twin motel rooms, all filled with the most meagre of vocal additions from him all shrugs of his thin shoulders, shakes of his head, nods, gestures. It's not like he hasn't spoken with people, discreetly asking for directions, ordering food... it's just me he doesn't want to talk to. I want to grab him by the shoulders and ask him why, but I'm too scared of the answer he'll give me. I pause a moment to wipe away the sweat beading on my forehead, taking a sip from the canteen at my hip, glad of even this tepid water to cleanse the dryness of my mouth. There's so much green here, the forest thick and abundant as birds call and animals rustle through the undergrowth, a safe distance away from us two intruders. It's so different to the city where I grew up, and the highly populated places I've frequented since. I'm used to concrete, asphalt, chiselled stone, all of it dark and bland. The beauty of this place, so alive, it really is enough to take your breath away.

I want to ask him what he thinks of it. But I've stopped trying to make conversation with him now, each rejection forcing me further into myself, another dent to my wilting confidence. I'd been so sure that this would work when I stepped out of that room, ready to face anything; but the reality of it had set in again after I'd gone back to that bare room of his, seen him take our AT's and regalia's out of their hiding place. He'd stood there and looked at them, unaware of my gaze and then... then he sighed. I look sideways at him now as I take another gulp of water. That melancholy feeling is still with him now; in the way he moves, fluid but solemn. What had that sigh meant?

Still, for all of my worry over his internal reflections there is nothing wrong with his body. He doesn't even seem out of breath, nimble and light on his feet; perfect balance where I'm tripping over every branch obscured in the foliage. It's second nature to him, that balance and skill, but it didn't come without a price. None of it did; those years he was caged by Kaito, the jacket which bound his arms. I know it's a bitter sweet thought to him, something I don't think he'll ever be able to fully come to terms with. Those nights when we lay together, his slim body so warm and fragile in my arms, he told me of his past, things he would never tell the others. He admitted the depths to which Akira's betrayal had hurt him. He told me of the hatred he held for Kaito, for everything he did to Akito, the continued torture of their body. I had held him as hot tears had slipped from his eyes, whole body trembling as I laid sweet kisses to his hair as he sobbed out that he wished he'd never been created; if Akito had been happy then there'd have been no need for him in the first place. It had cut all the more to then find out that that man was his father not his brother. My eyes fix on Agito in front of me, face half shielded by his hair which looks simply black in the leaf filtered light. It's still there, that hurt I hold in my chest for him, my share of his burden, although I doubt it lessens his any.

I hate that he's this quiet with me now, after everything we've gone through, all the secrets we shared. It reminds me of before we forged a relationship, when he merely existed alongside us. This has to be because of something I've done, or not done. I think of the last words he really spoke to me: '_Don't fuck me about Kazu... please.'_ I can't blame him for not trusting me, I've done nothing to show that I'm going to keep my word. It's not like I have the best track record. More than that, I wouldn't blame him if he's more bitter about my desertion than he let on. Sure he said that it's all in the past and to forget about it, but those are just words, the same as mine, and as we've learned all to harshly: words lie.

He drops easily from a rocky ledge to land lightly on his feet, moving down to a stream where he fills the bottle of water he has emptied on the climb so far. He'd estimated that it'd take us about six hours to climb from the village we had stopped in to the monastery, so by my watch we should be there pretty soon, although he probably didn't account for me slowing him down. I may have been the quickest rider on the team, Stealth an appropriate moniker when I'm in AT's, but in regular footwear I'm clumsy and uncoordinated. He starts to climb up the small rock face he had jumped down, and I'm quick over, offering my hand to pull him up. He looks at it a second, dumbfounded before placing his hand in mine, letting me assist his light frame back to the pathway. He's quick to pull it out of my grip, palms slightly sweaty. Why doesn't he want me to touch him?

'From what little I know I think it's just over that incline,' he says, starting to walk ahead, gesturing to the hill.

I follow him, what more can I do? I don't know what to say to him to make up for the fact that I've already let him down. He needs me to be the one to take charge, and all I find myself doing is sitting back and taking orders as usual. It's pathetic. He was the one that chose the motel's, that knew where we could go without causing questions or suspicion. Sure I'm good at travelling and keeping below the radar, but it always takes me a few days to suss somewhere out; his calculating gaze seems to have it sorted in seconds. I wipe the new beads of sweat from my forehead, pulling at the sweat dampened shirt which clings to my shoulders. I'm really going to have to up my game.

He stops still and I step into him, making his smaller frame stumble. Even so he doesn't snap at me as he once would have, a good verbal kicking for being so clumsy.

'I can see the rooftop, just over there, see it?' He asks, simply raising his arm and pointing to the raising brick shadow looming big between the leaves. Crouching down he rummages in the backpack, taking out two guns, checking they're both loaded and safe before holding one out for me. I take it grimly, stashing it in the front waistband of my jeans, pulling the t-shirt up and over it, hoping that the open shirt will do enough to conceal it. Agito's goes in his back waistband as he closes the backpack. I feel a surge of energy, the tingle in my veins at our two regalia's so close. It shivers through the humidity, sticking to my skin, sliding over it until the hairs prickle on the back of my neck. Since I first earned them it's been like this, so overwhelming to my senses. I once asked Agito if it was the same for him. He had mumbled a half assed affirmative before changing the topic.

'We've got to be alert, there has to be a reason, other than it's seclusion, that she chose this place.'

I nod, still staring at the building as though it were a monster crashing through the trees. The moment is so close to overwhelming me I feel the nervous tremble of the breath in my lungs, the weakening of my resolve. It's not that there may be a threat to our lives, I've lived with looking over my shoulder every single day since I ran; it's that if this doesn't work out and she doesn't agree to aid us then the mountain we climb may as well touch the Gods, because we'll never be able to reach the top alone.

'So what's the plan?' I ask, moving from foot to foot, unable to contain my restlessness. His eye settles on me, still, calm, but utterly disappointed. It makes me cringe. With him here like this it's too easy to slip back into the old way; of sitting back and letting everyone else decide my fate. I open my mouth to apologise but he turns away from me. I see the slump of his shoulder, _that_ sigh once again on his lips. He slings the backpack lazily up onto one shoulder as he straightens them, pretending like what I said doesn't bother him.

'We knock on the front door.'

That's it? What if he's right to be this cautious, to bring the guns. What if there is an army of samurai guarding her? It could be any kind of danger, or any kind of trap, or... or... When I look up he's already started walking. I find myself following mutely.

The clearing in front of the building is neat and tidy, and as we walk into it two sets of eyes are on us. A man sits on the porch, smoking a pipe, wearing loose robes which are gathered at the waist with an embroidered sash. The other is in the same outfit, looking at us from beneath his brows as he tends a vegetable patch. As we continue to walk forward, the man on the porch lowers his pipe, eyes steady as they regard us, a face wrinkled with age, although not over fifty. I can't stop the clamminess of my palms as I watch him exhale, the spirit thin grey tendrils of smoke snaking above his head. He doesn't seem at all bothered by our presence, and I see the sheathed sword at his side, tied by the sash. Agito's steps are quicker, surer, and he walks ahead. I don't try to catch him up. I need to get my nerves under control and I swallow to try and alleviate the persistent dryness of my mouth. Standing behind the Storm King before he was crowned I rarely had this problem, not when I had to fight for our lives, my loyalty something which could never have been questioned. But stepping out of his shadow... it always felt like this. Sure I surprised myself in those moments, when I let my wings spread their full diameter, embraced the power which boiled inside me; but I was happier to be led. Not that it makes much difference now. He saw that power as a threat to his absolute rule, especially when my relationship with Agito and Akito came to light. If it hadn't have been for Agito I'd have probably been killed long ago, that or would have been beaten into an even lower state of submission. They gave me the confidence to open my eyes, if I hadn't have had that, I'd be under his thumb still, doing any terrible thing he asked, blind as all the others who follow him now. I owe the man in front of me more than I can ever repay; and all I do is disappoint.

The man on the porch raises his hand, silently bidding us both to halt when we're about six feet away from him; standing directly in the sun which burns high above our heads. Without the tread of our feet to disturb it the silence clings to me, threatening to slip down my throat, climb into my lungs and suffocate me.

'Your business here?' The man asks, a smile in his voice but not in his eyes, these are hard with mistrust.

'We're looking for Ringo Noyamano. I was told that she was staying here. Red head, glasses, about this tall.' Agito raises his hand to just a fraction taller than himself. I feel my heart beat faster, not at the man's look, but because of the tone of Agito's voice. It's one of disinterested superiority, a measured authority which surprises me; both because of how softly spoken he's been since I met him again and the silence of the past two days, but also because he sounds so much wiser without the anger which used to rest behind his arrogance.

'You ask a lot for someone so young,' the man replies, almost teasingly. His eyes don't stick to Agito long, sliding back to look at me as though he thinks that I'm the one who is truly a threat here. Is it to do with my build; still dwarfing Agito's added height? Or do I look older? Then again, this is how it used to be, one of the reasons that Agito was always so dangerous. He was constantly underestimated until the very moment he had you in his bloodied, hungry fangs and there was no escape. The man stands, and there is no disguise in him this time, hand inching the sword out of its sheath as he glares at the both of us in challenge. He's no longer feigning a friendly greeting. 'Still, you are mistaken to think that someone of that name lives here.'

'What would you have me call her? Thorn Queen? Rider of the Sonia Road? I'll name her however you want, but we will speak with her.' Agito insists, strong and unwilted in the face of this hostility.

'There's nothing for you here, go home child,' the man insists firmly, drawing the sword free another inch, letting us know that he isn't kidding. I see the other man straighten up, see that he too is armed.

I go to reach out, hand raised ready to grip Agito by the shoulder and tell him that we'll come back another time. But my hand stops inches away as I feel the past roll over me, threaten to knock me off my feet. It's the same aura as when he stood there above us all, the victor with the bloody spoils of the Kintetsu Bulls swinging on his hooks, a sadistic smile on his face and a bloodchilling laugh on his lips. It lasts only a moment, but I have to close my eyes and savour the feeling of the Agito of my memories standing proud beside me tearing through everything in our path with blood on his face and a curse on his lips. He's straightened up, his full five foot five but seeming taller, bigger, his killing aura distorting the senses.

'Call me kid one more time and you will find out who you are speaking to with such disrespect.' Agito spits glaring at the man with a look which tells him he wants him dead on the spot and has already envisioned a thousand ways to do it. It's enough to make the man re-sheath his sword and keep his eyes fixed on Agito. 'Ask our names before you're so quick to tell us we have no business here.'

'Who are you?' He asks, eyes wide as he regards Agito with something akin to awe and horror. 'I sense... power... Storm K...'

'Don't fucking insult me by finishing that word,' Agito yells, taking a step forward to the man, so much anger in his voice it comes off nearly as pain. He's shaking, his whole body. For the first time since we met again, I'm scared of him, and I revel in the fright which tingles over my skin. Should I feel so much joy in fear? 'I am Agito Wanijima, Fang King of the Bloody Road, not that... that...'

'_You're _here?'

It's her voice. I look up to the balcony, find the ghost of the person we used to know as Ringo standing there. She looks ten years older than us, lined around the eyes, skin sallow pale, none of the old glow of life, even her hair is dull and lifeless, no gleaming sunset lustre like when the sunlight used to dance on it.

'Did you want it to be someone else?' Agito asks gruffly, but already he is shrinking into himself, falling back from the powerful aura leaving him looking as worn and fragile as before.

'Kazu... I thought... thought you'd gone for good,' she says as her eyes fall softly on me, moist with tears.

'Things change, can we talk?' I ask, somehow forcing the words out when I'm so taken aback by how broken she looks. I dig my nails into my palms to centre myself, letting the pain bring me back to this shitty reality, keeping my head out of the past. What did I think I would find? They both fought so much harder than me.

It takes a moment but she nods. 'I'll be down in a minute, we can sit in the garden.'

The man turns back to face us as she walks into the building.

'I'm sorry for my lack of manners, but we have to prevent people who could harm our residents from entering.' Agito just shrugs his thin shoulders, not even looking at the man, seeming completely disinterested in what is passing now. I want to reach out and touch him, ask him what the problem is. But not here, not infront of all of these eyes. 'Follow me and I'll take you to the garden, I'll get one of the girls to bring some tea.'

He turns and we follow him. I don't look at the house as we walk through it, nor the people who turn curious glances our way. All my eyes can see is Agito, his back to me, head slightly bowed as though it takes too much energy to hold it up. Worry bursts in my chest, this feels different to the silence of the walk here, it's as though I can taste the bitterness of his pain in the air. I let my hand reach out, squeeze his shoulder through the soft cotton of his T-shirt. He doesn't shrug me off and I'm glad, because right now... I don't think I can offer him much more than this.

Taking the seats that are indicated to us I'm glad to find that it's in shade, the heat and humidity already making my limbs weak and my mind fuzzy. A teenage girl appears and places a tray of tea down, she looks so shy and meek I don't have the heart to ask for the cold drink my body is craving. Ringo moves over, a quickness in her step I hadn't anticipated and I nearly choke in shock as she flings her arms around me, kneeling on the floor as she hugs me. I can only stare in surprise, never having really been this close with her before. Sure we've known each other since we were children, but she always kept her distance from other boys, saved everything for him.

'I didn't think you'd be coming back,' she says softly as she pulls away, blushing as she realises how forward she's just been, retreating meekly to her seat across from me and Agito.

'Neither did I, but here I am.'

She nods, reaching out to pour the tea. As she picks up the teapot I hear the stammer-like chink of porcelain parts, the lid rattling as her hand trembles. I see her eyes fix on the hand, stare at it until it cooperates with stillness. Is this nervousness over our unexpected visit, or persistent fallout from that day, the loss of her sisters?

'You look so different, the years have been kind to you Kazu.' She smiles, and I know she is referencing what others perceive as my handsome face, my healthy build; all of it different to my awkward youth. 'And you Agito, if it weren't for the eyepatch and the way you spoke I'd never have recognised you.'

He shrugs mutely at my side, chin in his hands as he invests his full attention to the glittering stream water whose fresh mountain water carves its way through the garden, gurgling softly. She looks to me for an explanation and I can do nothing but sigh and shake my head. There's no point hiding how he is from her, she'll soon see the difference when he isn't calling her 'that sleeping forest bitch' and spitting verbal venom at everyone near him.

'So how have you been?' I ask, trying to divert her attention from him and keep a conversation flowing. We... I came here to ask her something, the worst thing that can happen is we sit here in awkward silence until I just blurt it out.

'I... better,' she blushes, staring down at her hands, pushing a cup of tea to me with the tips of her fingers before raising them and pushing the thick glasses back up the freckled bridge of her nose. 'And you, you left the country?'

'Yeah, it feels like I've seen half of the world,' I reply, shifting in my seat, feeling so awkward I want to run off and forget this whole stupid idea. How can I come here and ask this of her? I'm such a bastard. Her eyes move to Agito, and I can tell that she has so much to say but is picking her words carefully. She has to be wondering about us, if sitting here together means that we're... back to how we used to be. That or she's just surprised he didn't rip my head off the moment I reappeared in his life.

'Agito, I heard that Kaito died, I'm so sorry.' She finally comes out with, softness and pain in her voice at the thought of her own losses.

'One more death on top of it all was meaningless,' he answers flatly, mumbled through his fingers not raising his head not moving his gaze from the waters path.

'But he was your family, I know what it's like to lose siblings.' She attempts to sympathise.

'Father,' he corrects with the same disinterest, 'Kaito was my father not my brother.'

I never though those words would leave his lips so freely. He hadn't taken the news well, had hidden it from most of them only me and the Storm King knew the truth of his birth.

'Oh.. uh..' she fumbles, 'how is Akito?'

'He's fine.'

'And Lind?'

'Gone.'

She sighs, turning back to me, eyes quick over my face, trying to read it for any answers for his behaviour. She won't find any, I know little more than her.

'So... ' She sighs, exhaling so fully that I expect her to completely collapse with how low her shoulders drop, 'I take it that this isn't a social call. You need me for something and went through a lot of trouble to find me.'

'I came back to the city because I saw what was happening and knew I couldn't let him carry on this way. I was willing to do it all on my own, but the more I've seen... and with bumping into Agito... I'm hoping that I don't have to.'

'This... was your idea?' she asks, obviously surprised as she lets her eyes move between me and the silent man at my side one more time.

'Yes,' I reply sternly, filling with conviction as I remember why I came back here, why I need to do this no matter of who will end up standing at my side. 'I'm not going to let him carry on like this, we put him on that throne, even if we didn't mean for this to happen. I'm going to make up for the part I played... I _have_ to.'

'It's better to put it in the past, to move on and forget it.. forget him.' Ringo insists, although she pales with every word.

'You can't believe that, you can't want all these people to suffer just so you can forget your own pain.'

'You did!' She shouts back, eyes pointed with anger. 'You turned your back on us when we needed you the most, when we had a chance of stopping him before all of this happened. If you'd have been there...'

'Then he'd most likely be dead as well,' Agito interjects calmly, turning to face her, pushing the hair back from his eyes. 'The past is the past and we can't change that, the only thing we can shape now is the future, and Kazu's right to want more.'

'Is he? Or are you simply letting your feelings blind you?' She asks him now, flushing with emotion.

'If there is anyone who is guilty of that here then it's you' He replies calmly, not reacting to her anger, her passion. The look in his eyes is one I can't read, a swirl of emotions he's hiding beneath his calm face. 'How old is she?'

'Excuse me?' Ringo asks, looking away quickly, brow furrowing as the blush on her cheeks strengthens.

'You think I'm that slow? The toys in the garden, the pink and glittery hairband around your wrist with some black hair trapped in it, so obviously not yours. I'll ask you again, how old is she?' he continues, not breaking eye contact with her now, although there is no emotion positive or negative on his face. I've never seen him look so blank.

'Four and a half,' Ringo answers, looking down at the table top, covering the hairband wrist with her other hand, closing over it although it's too late to hide it now.

'_He's_ the father isn't he.' Agito asks bluntly.

Ringo nods, lips trembling with emotion as he eyes fill with tears.

'What... wait. You have a kid, with, with...' It clicks, and my mind starts to collapse.

She hides her face with her hands.


End file.
